


A Night in the Lot

by deimosandphobos



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-10-09 11:32:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deimosandphobos/pseuds/deimosandphobos
Summary: POV Johnny Cade. A short story about how Johnny is woken up in the lot one night and winds back up at the Curtis' house with a friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure how long I'm going to make this yet, probably pretty short. Hope you enjoy!

“Hey kid.”

A wave of panic rolled through Johnny’s body as he realized that someone was talking to him—someone with a voice he didn’t recognize. His hand automatically crept to the switchblade that he had taken to carrying in his back pocket, the tips of his fingers prickling angrily with the loss of feeling from the cold February air. He looked up, trying to discern the person who was speaking to him from the darkness. _God, it was cold._ His eyes finally adjusting, Johnny could see a gangly looking boy with dark hair staring down at him questioningly, his hair slicked back in an oily sheen which reflected the moonlight of the exposed night sky above him. _Greaser._ Johnny felt relief flood through his body as he took his hand off the outline of his switchblade. _What time was it?_

The boy started again. “I was comin’ down the…I mean, I was comin’ back from the…” He waved his hands vaguely to the left. “From the…bar up the road, and I almost tripped over ya.” He swayed lightly, looking around indistinctly as if he had forgotten what he had been going to say. As his eyes made their way back to where Johnny was sitting again, he gave a little start as he seemed to remember. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Johnny felt a vague discomfort clamp down on his brain as he realized that this guy was drunk. “Erm...” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just takin’ a nap.” He trailed off listlessly looking away from the stranger’s gaze.  

“Can’t ya find somewhere better to sleep than out here? I’m fucking freezing.”

Johnny felt a dull ache of pain throb through the right side of his face. _Not tonight._ He lied. “It…don't bug me much.” He moved to sit up, struggling slightly as his jacket was stiff from the crusted over beginnings of frost. “I don’t really get cold that easy.”

The boy shrugged underneath a worn leather jacket. “Whatever, kid. You got a cigarette?”

“Sure…” He mumbled, his hand moving deftly to the pocket of his jean jacket where he kept his pack and dug out two of his cigarettes. Well, technically, they weren’t _his_ cigarettes—he never really had any money to buy any—but Pony had forfeited him his pack since Darry had been gettin’ on him about it lately with track season coming up. Pony said it might help him to calm his nerves. _Yeah…right._

The stranger sat down next to him, falling down a little heavily, as they both lit up. They sat in silence for a while, the glowing embers of the cigarettes casting a warm glow onto their faces as the heat of the cigarette began to bring some feeling back into the tips of Johnny’s fingers. Johnny could feel the other boy staring at him and knew he was going to ask. He felt his shoulders tense up and nervously began messing with the ends of the hair falling in his eyes. The stranger motioned towards the side of Johnny’s face, breaking the silence. “What happened there?”

Johnny was sure he flushed red—good thing it was dark. “Fight…” Johnny said lamely. Self-consciously he lifted his hand to the raised portion of broken skin along the side of his cheek-bone where he had been punched. It throbbed dully to the touch, but it didn’t feel like it was bleeding anymore. The unpleasant mixture of fear and shame crept into his mind as he was tempted to remember the bad mood his father had been in a couple hours ago, but he tried hard to stifle it. _Don’t think about it._ He focused on the smoke drifting lazily out of the end of his cigarette. _Don’t think about it._

Realizing Johnny wasn’t going to explain further, the boy took a long draw from his cigarette. He looked back towards from the direction he had been walking from. “Fight, huh? Yeah, me too.” He leaned backward, puffing a circle of smoke into the night sky. “My buddy…my buddy Tim was supposed to give me a ride home, but uh…I kinda got thrown out before I could find him. So I just, just started walkin’ towards home.” He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees and looked back at Johnny. “You don’t, uh, know which direction Woodland Acres is do you?”

Johnny had heard of it before; some run-down apartment complex a couple miles away; he was pretty sure Dally’s gal Sylvia lived there. This kid was pretty far from home if he lived in Woodland Acres. And to get there, you had to cross that part of the lot where the Soc’s occasionally liked to hang out. Where that Blue Mustang had been driving around that one time, where the Soc’s had found him and…

_Don’t think about it._

Johnny felt his hands shaking as he took another long drag from his cigarette.

“You said you were with your buddy Tim.” Johnny’s voice came out weakly into the darkness. The other boy looked at him and nodded blankly. “Tim…Tim Shepard?”

The drunk stranger broke into a smile. “Yeah. You know him?”

“Yeah, he hangs around with us sometimes.” Making a decision, Johnny stood up. He offered the other boy a hand. “Why don’t you come with back with me? I got a couch you can crash on if ya need a place for the night. I don’t think you want to try walkin’ back home this late.”

The other boy hesitated a second, then grabbed his hand and swung himself up, accidentally pitching into Johnny’s side—he was a good deal taller than Johnny and unsteady on his feet. A sharp pain radiated through Johnny’s ribs where he had been hit earlier, making his vision go red for a moment. He put an arm around the stranger, trying to steady him. “Yeah, okay.” The boy mumbled.

Johnny helping to prop him up, the two started towards the Curtis’ house in this weird procession, Johnny silently praying that this stranger would have the good sense to be quiet and not wake everyone up. Darry usually worked pretty early and the last thing Johnny wanted to do was to piss him off.


	2. A Night Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny POV. Johnny recalls what happened earlier that evening while taking the stranger to the Curtis' house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter does contain some violent descriptions of abuse towards Johnny. I think it's important to his character, but if it's going to upset you, please don't read.

_This kid was heavier than he looked._ Johnny was struggling for breath by the time they’d made it to his neighborhood, his ribs aching with a dull pain that throbbed with every step. Part of his exhaustion was probably from the fight with his dad earlier, but God—he needed to start laying off the cigarettes. The stranger, however, seemed entirely oblivious to Johnny’s struggles as he leaned heavily on his shoulder, trying not to trip over his feet.  

“Break…” It came out as a mumble. Johnny cleared his throat and tried again. “Break. Let’s take a break.” He pulled the stranger off, setting him down heavily on the ground before collapsing next to him, then leaning back and stretching out into the frozen grass. His heartbeat flooded his senses, pounding through his skull, reminding him how out of shape he was _. Was it possible for someone’s heart to explode?_ He’d have to remember and ask Pony tomorrow—he would know. Pony didn’t think it, but he was one of the smartest people Johnny knew. These nights that Johnny spent out here alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t help but wonder why Pony liked to hang out with him so much. Or really, why any of them liked to hang around him. He wasn’t smart or funny or tuff or…nothing. He was just quiet. Quiet and sad.

He stared at one of the stars peering through the hazy fog of clouds above him as he tried to think about something else. He got like this a lot, probably since he was always by himself. He sometimes wondered if everyone got like this when they were alone. Maybe that’s why he loved the Curtis’ house so much—there was always so much going on there. People were always running through the house and the tv was always blaring through the living room; it was so chaotic that you could barely think, much less have time to be sad. He wanted more than anything for his own home to be like that.

“Mmmmphhh.” Johnny was snapped out of his thoughts as he looked over at the stranger, who had fallen over while struggling to dig something out of his pocket. Hunched over on the ground, Johnny saw the kid’s shoulders shaking, bobbing up and down like he was crying. Johnny went to put a hand on his shoulder but pulled away when he realized the kid was laughing.  

“What?” When he didn’t answer, Johnny pushed the kid lightly, trying to get his attention. “What?” He said again, this time slightly annoyed.

“I lost it!” He had rolled onto his back at this point, hands resting on his stomach as he laughed upwards into the sky. “I can’t believe I lost it.”

“Lost what?”

“Her number!” The stranger sat up quickly, turning towards Johnny and making him jump slightly. He didn’t like when people moved at him that fast.

“That’s what I got in a fight about.” He turned back away from Johnny, one arm draped over his knee, the back of his leather jacket covered in grass. “I got a girl’s number and her guy came over and….” He exhaled slowly. “Man, she was a dime.” He lapsed into silence again as his head drooped down lethargically to rest sideways on his arm.

_Jesus. This guy was hammered._ Johnny reconsidered if he should bring him to the Curtis’, but at this point, he didn’t really have any other choice. There was no way his own house was an option and Johnny didn’t have enough strength to lug this kid back up the hill to whatever bar he came from. He entertained the idea of just letting him sleep out here— _he could go grab him some blankets_ —but no, he couldn’t do that. It was too cold for people to be sleeping out here tonight. Well, for people that weren’t used to it. Anyway, this guy looked like he’d really appreciate a nice, warm couch to crash on.

Resolved, Johnny stood back up, using his weight to help the stranger lumber to his feet before continuing down the street. In order to get to the Curtis’ he had to pass by his house—he hoped to God that everyone was inside, no one on the porch smokin’ a cigarette. Through the cold and exhaustion that was pressing in on his mind, he wondered vaguely if his mom was okay…that’s kind of what started his fight with his dad earlier. _Don’t think about it_. But he couldn’t stop, his brain continually returning to it over and over, picking at it like a scab.

…

He’d been hiding in his room, staring at the yellowing mark of water damage spreading unevenly across the ceiling, when he’d heard his mother shrieking downstairs. He’d ignored it, trying just to just sit and do nothing…think nothing, when he’d heard a loud thud and glass shattering followed by a wail. Then a door slammed.

He laid there for a moment, his conscience fighting against his fear on what to do. Taking a deep breath, he decided on what was probably the stupider choice, and slowly left the safety of his room to walk downstairs.

Quiet for once, he saw his mother hunched in a corner, her back against the wall and her hand guarding a spot of blood streaming down the side of her face. On the ground next to her were the remnants of a coke glass that had been thrown, the wall glistening with a wet, sticky sheen. He’d run over to her, kneeling to look at the cut she was protecting.  

“What?” Her voice came out shaky, choked with sobs. Timidly, Johnny moved to lightly pull her hand away.

“Get off.”

Johnny pulled his hand back, staying crouched down next to her silently, looking down.

“I said get off!” His mother screamed at him, shoving him hard enough that he had toppled to the floor and slammed his head against the couch.

He’d heard the door swing open behind him. _Shit._

“What are you doing?” His father boomed out behind him. “She’s fine.”

Feeling numb, Johnny had slowly stood up, saying nothing as he stared pointedly at the floor. His eyes were drawn to a mess of empty beer cans clustered in the corner by the television.

“Hey. Didn’t you hear me?” His father’s speech slurred out, Johnny’s eyes flicking towards the open drink he had clenched in his hand. He had frozen, wishing he could be somewhere, anywhere else. His father had taken a step towards him, then leaned over to look at his wife laying on the floor. “Why the fuck does he never talk?”

His mother’s voice raised into a whine behind him, Johnny still frozen—terrified—between the two of them. “Why would he talk to an asshole like you?”

“Hey!” He barked out, pointing at his wife. “You shut the fuck up. And you..” He had pointed at Johnny, simultaneously taking another step towards him so they were almost chest-to-chest. Johnny kept his eyes trained carefully on the ground, his father looming over him, reeking of cheap beer and stale cigarettes. _Why hadn’t he just stayed upstairs?_

“What is _your_ problem?” He tapped him lightly on the chest. “Can’t even say hi to your old man? Is it that…” He paused, his voice dropping to be quieter—dangerous. “Is it cause you think you’re better than me? Better than all of this?” He had raised his arms, gesturing to the room. “Cause let me tell you, you little shit. You’re not. And I’m a goddamn tired of your attitude.” He paused to take a sip of his drink, then set it down on the couch. Johnny was still looking at the floor but tensed up knowing it was coming. He hit the ground hard as a heavy hand had smashed into the side of his face. Lights popped in his eyes and his vision went fuzzy.

_Just lay still, it will be over sooner._

His dad had thundered on. “Don’t think that I haven’t seen you out there with your little friends, fuckin’ around while I go to work every day.” Johnny groaned as a foot connected solidly with his ribs. “Workin’ to feed you and your whore mother.” Another kick…his vision starting to blacken at the edges.

“Fuck you!” Roared out behind him, throbbing dully through his senses. The sound like it was coming from underwater. Vaguely, he saw mother and father fighting, their figures blurring and blackening into a series of dancing shadows.

Then…nothing.

…

He had woken up on the ground later, his mother nowhere to be seen, his father snoring loudly from the couch.

After he’d quietly disappeared out the back door, he’d run to the lot, collapsing onto the ground and curling up into a ball to stay warm. He must have fallen asleep really fast because that was the last thing he remembered before he’d almost being stepped on by this stranger. He was going to have to ask Pony to check him over later…something still wasn’t feeling quite right. His head felt heavy and his thoughts felt like they were swimming through soup.

There was no one on the porch. He felt his whole body relax a little as they quietly made their way in front of Johnny’s house without anyone inside noticing. Although he tried to avoid looking towards the house, telling himself he didn’t care, he couldn’t help but steal a glance into the kitchen, hoping for some indication that his mother was alright. He honestly wasn’t sure why he had tried to help earlier. She never wanted his help. 

Finally, he could see the light of the Curtis’ porch shining out through the darkness like a beacon. It seemed like ages that he had been trudging along with this stranger draped over him, his mind and body both pushed to the brink of exhaustion. The loud squeal of the rusty gate made Johnny cringe as they pushed their way into the yard, across the porch and up to the front door of the Curtis’ house. Johnny prayed that this stranger would have to good sense to be quiet as he moved to turn the knob and push his way into the dark house of the sleeping brothers.


End file.
